


Presque-Vu

by bossers



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 19:50:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17107037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bossers/pseuds/bossers
Summary: Written for the RoadRat Charity Zine!One shot set in some kind of hell featuring Hayseed!Rat and Demon!Hog





	Presque-Vu

With a wet thud, the newborn lands on the rocky ground. Hog watches the scarecrow writhe; gangly limbs both flesh and metal tangled up under its equally long torso. Joints pop and a rasping inhale that crackles like fire signals its survival. They don’t always. As it thrashes onto its feet, he looks up at the cliffside behind it. Twisted expressions of suffering and pain are etched into rock face where more souls suffer, waiting to be reborn.

A soft glow pulls his attention back to the newborn. It looks up at him through a burlap sack equipped with a pair of strange goggle-like eyes. In them and in its parted mouth, hellfire burns gently. The afterbirth that didn’t slide off it, burns quickly.

“Hey,” he says. Leaning over to offer a big red hand. It looks at his palm then at the hook on his hip then up at his skull covered face. It grasps his hand with its mechanical one and uses Hog’s stability to wobble up onto its legs.

“G–G’day mate?” It says uncertainly, burning tongue not quite settled into its own mouth.

“Ugh, you sound more like an imp than demon,” he rumbles back.

It straightens up to a terrifying height that nearly matches the butcher’s, eyes reddening. “Oi, is that some kind of insult?”

“From anyone else it is.” He places a heavy hand on its shoulder and shoves it back down into the hunched pose it had been in. “What’s your name, newbie?”

It growls at him, but gets distracted by the question. It makes the inside of his skull prickle. Twitching uncomfortably before scratching at the hay bursting from its head it answers, “Junkrat? That don’t sound like a name though—“

“Got it. Come on.” Turning away, he adjusts his apron and sidles over to a motorcycle parked a few yards from the cliffside. No longer distracted by the big guy, Rat looks out at the bike made of steel and bone, then farther to the endless horizon of dark red sandstone and perilous ebony spires that twist up toward the vortex of a sky. His stomach lurches with vertigo despite himself.

Hog grunts as he throws his leg over the chassis of the bike, breaking Rat free from the hypnotic twisting of the clouds. Scurrying over, limbs feeling stiff and messy, he falls into the sidecar. As the engine revs to life, fire spitting from the exhaust pipes, he leans over and looks at the strange enormous skull that makes up what he’s sitting in. He sticks his hand in the nose hole and giggles madly. Hog looks over at the sound and snorts despite himself. This guy was supposed to be a demon?

Hearing the snort, Rat jerks his eyes up, the little mechanical things rotating in their sockets. Junkrat smiles widely, his head practically splitting in half. He likes the attention, even if it’s brief. So when Hog looks away again to focus on the road, he starts talking. “So! What all is this place? Why do ya look so different than me? Why ya got a bike? Why was I alone? Why do I remember my name, but I can’t ‘member anythin’ else but this feels normal and—“

With a yelp, Rat is almost flung out of the sidecar when Hog slams the brakes. “Just—“ Hog holds up a finger at Rat who’s still slumped over the front of the sidecar. “Just keep all that inside ‘til we’re at the office. Got it?”

“G–Got it!”

When they finally reach the office, Hog is certain he’s ready to strangle the new kid. The chatter had been… incessant. Rat eagerly chases him into the building; one of the ebony spires he’d seen from afar. Its interior is fairly domestic compared to the brutal landscape outside. He’s practically bouncing off the walls as Hog speaks to a clerk. The imp gives Hog a knowing look. “Newbies, right?” Hog sighs and keeps filling out paperwork.

Papers in hand, he grunts again, which, somehow, gets Rat to run over and stand at attention. “Alright,” Hog starts, “I’ve registered you. Welcome to the afterlife. You’ve been here for a long time now, but you didn’t have a body. Now you do. You’re a demon, and you’re here to work. All you needed to know was your name and your skills, so all your other memories are gone. Don’t bother tryin’ to remember. You’ll just hurt yourself.”

Rat is fidgeting madly, leg jittering and eyes darting. It’s driving Hog mad. Something about it; he can’t put his finger on it, but it bothers him. In fact, the longer he’s around this kid the more everything about it bothers him. “Quit wiggling and listen,” he snaps. Junkrat goes perfectly still. With a hum of satisfaction, Hog starts up again, but it’s only a few minutes into the introduction lecture that Rat starts breaks and starts fidgeting, now at mach speed to make up for lost time. Hog growls menacingly, but all that does is slow him down for a short while, forcing Hog to just push through and finish the talk.

Rat really, really wants to focus, but he just can’t. Hog’s words come through clear sometimes and then they fade away behind the churning, crackling mass of thoughts in his head. He’s thinking about how big Hog is, about the memories he shouldn’t think about, but he’s thinking about thinking about them and is that just as bad? Maybe he should think about thinking about thinking about them. Ugh, that’s too many layers of thinking—wait what did Hog just say? Shit. He nods dutifully and hopes it wasn’t too important.

“So, now that that’s covered, let’s get to the workplace tour.” Junkrat nods again but his mind screams ”WHAT’S COVERED?!” until they reach the bike again.

As they drive off, deeper into the city, the hot breeze rustling his straw soothes him immediately. It’s as natural as letting his mouth run while Hog grunts and sighs throughout. Maybe he can have his own bike too? He could build it—and with that thought a wave of knowledge drops from some attic in his mind. He’s flooded with ideas on how to assemble such a thing, and how to make—well, anything!

He twists in the sidecar to say something to Hog, but the silhouette of his companion against the flickering backdrop of light filtering between rapidly passing spires just about knocks the wind out of him. Maybe he’d rather just always ride sidecar than have his own bike if Hog’s the one driving.

Hog notices him staring, a brief reprieve in his jabbering. Those little mechanical eyes catching what little light Hog’s shadow doesn’t deprive them. Normally eyes make Hog itch in a way he doesn’t like, but, maybe because they aren’t really eyes, Hog doesn’t mind. Instead he chuckles deep and rough and grabs Rat’s head with one massive clawed hand. He twists his face to see the approaching building.

It’s similar to the other spires, but this one is broken. Pieces of blackened machinery churn like oil rigs from cracks in it. The dark red earth around it is stained black, too, and from its top smoke rises up into the spinning torrential sky. Rat’s head stays in place when Hog pulls his hand away. Whatever it is, he likes it.

The fascination remains as they enter this place, the machinery present throughout. His mechanically inclined mind unravels the mysteries of its functions for him. But function and purpose are different, and it isn’t until they reach the heart of the place that Hog elucidates him on that.

“This is where you’ll work. Where we work. Maybe you’ve heard the phrase, ‘battling your inner demons’? Well, that’s us.” A baritone laugh shakes its way out of Hog’s gut and up through the building. It should be terrifying and ominous, but all Rat feels is enthralled. Hog can’t shake the disappointment when he sees Rat doesn’t cringe or step away, those little eyes instead twisting closer until the very seams of his face stretch. He breaks off his laughter and leans over the crooked little demon in his care. “And we train with trial by fire.”

With a shove, Hog sends Rat careening into the pit at the center of the room. The drop feels bad the way his recent birth did, but he gets to his feet much quicker. Looking back up at the top he can see the butcher peeking back down at him. A red arm lifts and points at something deeper in the pit. Rat turns to look and sees a shadow of a person standing there. It’s just barely visible in the darkness of the pit, but his eyes can discern it thanks to the natural backlight within them. His lights flicker and shift and suddenly with it the figure does too.

Its running at him, leaning and moving unnaturally in a way that sends a chill down Rat’s spine. He can feel it, something forgotten, come to life in him. Fear. It comes just as his hellfire blinks out for a moment and in that instant the figure strikes him across the ribs with an open palm, fingertips digging in with bruising force before Rat’s launched across the pit into a wall.  
The impact shakes the very embers out of him. As he looks up at the approaching figure, his spat up cinders illuminating the area. Its form is made of twisting shadows, a writhing silhouette of a person. It stands a several feet away, trembling and panting. Suddenly wings erupt from its back, tugging upward until the figure contorts and expands. The figure splices into two as the wings keep pulling until a second being is roughly torn from the original’s back with a wet pop. The fear is loud and tries to get Rat to run, but more things are opening up in him. And one of them chains that fear. He masters it, not the other way around.

Crouching and ready to spring this time, his eyes stay locked on the winged figured as it starts to move toward him. Rat flexes his mechanical hand, hoping it was strong enough to tear into that strange terrifying presence. Before he can test the theory though, something yanks him out of the pit. It’s a painful ride, but familiar in a way the makes his head itch again.

It’s happening before Hog even realizes he’s doing it. Pure instinct makes him lose his hook and haul his charge back out even though he shouldn’t care. He’s never rescued a newborn before, but then again, this wasn’t a typical first hunt. With practiced ease, Hog plucks Rat out of the air and undoes him from the hook. Blood and straw leak from the holes in his side, but they’re not lethal for a demon.

Rat’s chest heaves under the gentle pressure of Hog’s thumb. The massive hand holds him like a toy and that, too, is making Rat’s head go fuzzy in the way it has been every time he tries to remember the things he can’t remember. It’s annoying, but not enough to stop Rat from enjoying being held. Hog’s burning eyes are fixed on him as he’s slowly lowered to the ground at the edge of the pit.

“Thanks, mate. I dun think I coulda handled that thing.” He somehow manages to wink when he says that and the tension is ripped out of Hog. Whatever anxiety he should have over this change of heart can be fretted over later.

“Not unarmed you couldn’t. Didn’t expect a guardian angel to be hiding in there.” His touch lingers after setting Rat down, but neither of them think twice about it.

“So what, I get a gun like yers?” His eyes greedily drop to the enormous double gauge on Hog’s hip.

“Thing’s as big as you are. You wouldn’t even be able to lift it. Get real,” Hog huffs, putting a protective hand over it. “But someone can make you something.”

“Actually! I’d like ta build it myself. That thing you said ‘bout remembering skills—well, I’m remembering a lot about buildin’.”

Now that makes more sense to Hog. A runt of a demon like this must had more to contribute. “Alright. This way then.” Hog turns and leads his charge down a different path in the bowels of the spire. With aching ribs, Rat limps along after him, humming with the rhythm of his clicking peg leg.

They enter into a room full of imps tinkering away. A vast machine shop with parts scattered everywhere in that tepid balance an organized mess has. Hog turns to say something to Rat, but he’s already darting ahead; grabbing bits and bobs until his arms are loaded up. “I’ll leave you to it then.” Rat nods affirmatively as he dumps his parts on a table.

Hog returns several hours later and finds the machine shop erupting with voices. Inside, the imps have encircled Rat, who can only be seen by the straw on the top of his head. The imps are cheering and jeering as the straw darts around within their circle. Moving closer in, Hog starts to see what’s going on.

Rat is hovering over a table with a number of items built and set aside. The imps are taking turns setting half done projects in front of his charge and watching as those nimble hands move with intense barely controlled energy into reshaping these things into their final form. Hog has no idea what’s being built each time, but it’s a wonder to watch. Rat’s eyes move independently of each other gazing at different things as he tinkers.

If there was anything that could be called beautiful in this hellish world of theirs, this was it. For a few minutes Hog watches with awe and pride. But then he realizes what’s really going on. He parts the tide of imps, sending a number of them tumbling to the ground. “Enough! Who do you think you are? Dumping your work on a demon?” Like a swarm of roaches, they scatter.

Junkrat looks up at Hog in a daze and smiles. “It’s okay, I was havin’ fun.”

“Don’t spoil them, or they’ll never get work done again. Anyways. You ready for round two?”

Nodding enthusiastically, the scarecrow throws a bandolier over his head and hefts a peculiar looking gun. “This is what I got made fer now. Should put a real fire under that thing’s ass.” He laughs a little too hard and looks over his creation fondly. Hog can’t help but laugh too. The irritation he’d had for Rat before was fading more each time they interacted. The pestering twist in his mind of something off, feeling less unnatural each time he feels it again.

Together they head back to the pit. The figure is back to being just one being again, but they know better this time. Rat drops in enthusiastically, flexing his firing arm as he takes a step toward the figure. But then the earth trembles with the impact of Hog’s landing. Rat looks back at him, a smile so big that Roadhog can practically feel heat of its inner hellfire on his red skin.

“Don’t get distracted,” he chides. Rat snaps his attention back to the figure who’s almost upon him when Hog fires his gun on it, the concussive blast knocking it back several feet. It gets back on its feet and puts distance between them and it. Then it divides again, revealing the hidden guardian protecting this soul once more.

Sensing a vulnerability, Rat charges in with another mad laugh, tossing down a mine to launch himself forward before turning the barrel of his launcher down at the enemy. Hog understands the gun now as grenades leave the mouth of it and drop down toward the silhouettes. The guardian grabs its host and flings them farther into the pit, then turns and flares its wings against the blast.

Taking the opportunity, Hog swings his chain, hooking the guardian’s shin and toppling it. He yanks and pulls it toward him, leveling his gun at it, but the being twists, white eyes suddenly appearing on its face and the all over its wings. It takes the momentum of Hog’s pull to kick his gun aside and grip him.

Crushingly strong hands, dig into his shoulders, then it headbutts his face, and Hog has never been more thankful for the skull adhered to his face. He can feel it crack under the impact and his vision blurs. He sees the guardian lean back to repeat the attack, but then a streak of orange collides with it. He can hear wild screaming and cursing and his vision clears to let him see Junkrat clinging to it tries to tear him off his back. Rat is beating down on it with the butt of his gun, but it gets a hold of him and throws him clear across the pit again.

It turns its gaze on Hog again. The anger and disgust come off it in waves, which Hog is content to answer with another shot from his gun. Beyond it he can see Junkrat getting up and starting to grapple with the host. It’s far weaker than the guardian so he’s not too worried. But he is worried about himself right now. The guardian is on him, and they’re exchanging blows. The thing is stronger than him so each hit is wearing him down. It won’t let him level his gun again, but all he needs is an opening, just—

And it comes, there’s a blast and a wicked shriek that’s echoed by that high–pitched cackle. The guardian reels back and looks at where Rat’s blown off part of the host with a well placed mine. Changing targets, the guardian leaves Hog in the dust and charges at Rat.

This is it. Hog tosses his hook and catches the guardian in the side hard. Junkrat sees the moment too, as the winged figure is brought to a standstill he fires away. The grenades follow it as its yanked back toward Hog. Through the eruptions of black earth between them, Hog can see the wide smile on Rat’s face as he laughs. Putting an arm around the guardians neck and his gun to its back, he can see Junkrat even more clearly now. Everything feels right. He pulls the trigger and smiles at the runt. The runt sees him and winks again as the guardian drops to the ground.

Hog steps over it while white light bursts from the wound in its back, consuming it. He reloads as he approaches Rat who’s hopping toward him eagerly, apparently full of the same feeling of wholeness. Thin body heaving with excitement, his eyes twist and turn as he inhales to say something, but then he leaps onto Hog, who stumbles back in shock and from the impact of legs pressing on his gut.

Rat throws something and there’s a blast behind him. His balance is thrown again by the blast, knocking him forward. He drops to a knee and catches Rat before he falls to the ground off of him. Again, Junkrat finds his torso half smothered by one of those huge hands. But this time that itchy feeling isn’t in his skull. Instead there’s a warmth. Like a peephole into a lit room he can vaguely recall events like this from another life. It’s a comforting, pleasant feeling even if he doesn’t really understand what the origin of this nostalgia is.

Still leaning closely over Junkrat, Hog feels the same shift in understanding. But he’s been here so long, so accustomed to the emptiness in his own head, that it comes through a little clearer. He remembers this warmth as something more. He closes the distance and presses their faces together. Rat’s head slots neatly between his tusks and though their warped faces have no lips, the memories of doing this before their deaths uncorks and the remembered sensation overwhelms them.

They part just enough to look at each other again. Out of the corner of his eye Hog sees the broken figure of the host stumbling toward them, with his free hand he shoots it, and light erupts out of it too. It illuminates Rat’s burlap face tugging him back in for another attempt at a kiss.

“I missed you,” he says against Hog’s fangs.

“I missed you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this was my submission for the Roadrat Charity Zine! It had to be PG-13 which is a damn shame haha if ya'll have read anything else of mine you know what I prefer to write. But I'm still really proud of this.
> 
>  
> 
> \---
> 
> Presque-Vu: the tip of the tongue phenomenon, in which you know that you know something, but can't quite recall it


End file.
